


Trust Fall

by TheCobraOfHell



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Past Abuse, Suicide Attempt, everything that is to do with saeran essentially, there may be more - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCobraOfHell/pseuds/TheCobraOfHell
Summary: Saeran is new to this whole guardian angel thing, and his human, Yoosung, is not making it any easier. Between the difficult classes, rotten health, and the recent death of his cousin, Yoosung needs a lot of help. But Saeran doesn’t know exactly where to draw the line.Saeran is an angel, lucky him. He hadn’t been the best person in the world, not by a long shot, but having that drive, the desire to continue living, brought him here. As a Guardian Angel. He’s been gone for two years now, the wings are finally something he’s familiar with. And now- he’s found a human to pin his hopes and desires on.Yoosung is a college student with his whole life ahead of him, or so everyone says. His life seems to be falling apart before his eyes from failing classes, to debt, to lack of friends, to the death of his cousin. And with everything looking so bleak- it seems like someone needs to step in before he does something he might regret.





	1. Fallen

The alarm droned on and on like a weather alert, drilling into his skull and kicking him awake, the only motivation for Yoosung to actually swing his legs out of bed and stretch his arms above his head. For the first time this week- he actually got out of bed to his alarm. 

He brushed his teeth, he took a shower, he poured a bowl of cereal, and every action was like near agony. Every twitch of his muscles brought exhaustion, every twitch of his brow sucked breath out of his lungs, and every step he took felt like pins and needles along his entire body. It wasn’t as bad as usual though. 

Things are okay, for once. Yoosung though this to himself as he slung his backpack over one shoulder and drug himself out towards the campus. It was bustling with students, loud with idle chatter and announcements, yet he hadn’t heard a single word or phrase. It more so clogged his head- maybe that was why the pain had started? No, it couldn’t have been. He’s been having this headache for a while. 

When he gets to his first class, his professor hadn’t even arrived- so Yoosung found the time to browse the internet on his phone. He noticed an email then, one that looked important, and had apparently been sent three days ago. 

Student Services IMPORTANT UPDATE

Dear Kim Yoosung,

We are sending you this update in accordance with the student requirements that you may/may not be meeting. Please remember that, in order to remain a student here, you must:  
-Maintain a GPA of 2.00 or higher  
-Take at least 8 credits each semester  
-Acquire a minimum of 48 credits of general education courses  
-Students must…

 

Like everything else, the words melded into a mess of garbled garbage, and Yoosung could barely comprehend what the email was trying to say anymore. That might have been a lie, he knew what it was saying, but it killed him to read any more. It was the GPA, it was ALWAYS the GPA. Yoosung hadn’t even dared to log into his student account to see his grades, he knew they were bad. After all of the missed classes, bombed tests, and late homework- it all caught up eventually. 

And now he was in too deep. There wouldn’t be a point in going back over everything. His counselors didn’t care- and the tutors would just think he was stupid…

Before he knew it- his class was done, the professor already erasing the dry board and students beginning to pack up their belongings. Yoosung glanced up from his unopened notebook to the whiteboard. In another time, he would have been horrified and asked the professor if he had the same notes online at all…

But he didn’t care so much now. 

-

He doesn’t like the apron that he has to wear. It’s strings are flimsy and barely tie tight enough around his waist- but he doesn’t complain about it much. It’s the hat that grabs most of his disdain. 

When Yoosung walks into the Boulders Pizza Place, things are busier than he likes. He hates busy days- people are always screaming, bumping into each other. It just adds to the chaos clogging his head. 

It was when he was typing in his login number that something out of the ordinary happened. 

“Kim! What are you doing?”

“Clocking in?” Yoosung answered back, looking over his shoulder at the manager running the front area. She seems annoyed- and halfway sullen. 

“Talk to the GM first. He wants to tell you something.”

Ling? It was an odd quiet, in the middle of the dinner rush to be called upon by the big boss. The realization of something so odd made a tremble race up Yoosung’s spine- but it was fine. He probably just wanted to talk about scheduling or something, right?

Or perhaps the few days that Yoosung’s missed. Or maybe the no call no shows. Or maybe his lethargy attitude. 

It could be anything. 

Yoosung didn’t like his boss, but he didn’t dislike him either. The man was busy and had no time to help up front, so he didn’t see him often. But he was the one to go to for scheduling problems or if you needed to ask for time off. Yoosung remembered walking into his office to ask off for Rika’s funeral…

“You wanted to talk to me, Ling?”

“Yes, yes, sit down.” His boss waves him down, trying to end a phone call that he was currently on. Yoosung did as requested, fiddling with the strings of his apron as he waits. Before long, his boss hangs up and turns in his chair to face him. “So- do you mind me asking what you’re doing here?”

Yoosung pauses, unsure of how to answer. The way his boss had said that was unsettling, especially with the man across from him leaning back, crossing his arms, and giving Yoosung a quizzical look. The boy takes in a breath and answers, “I was scheduled until ten tonight, sir.”

Ling raises a brow, looking surprised- or at least mockingly. “Oh? You are scheduled today? How about yesterday? I believed you were scheduled then too- and yet you weren’t here…”

That’s what it was about. Yoosung shrugged his shoulders, even though he knew it wasn’t the best gesture in that moment. “I wasn’t feeling well.” It was the truth- he had missed two classes, slept most of the day away, barely found the strength to eat anything more than a few saltines…

“You weren’t feeling well.” Ling repeats disdainfully, glancing down at his fingers before turning and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “That was the fifth no call no show you’ve had these last few months, Yoosung. Are you aware of that?” As he spoke, attention directed to the paper he held, he was scribbling something. 

“I thought it was my third,” Yoosung admits bashfully, his heart beating a little bit faster with the fright developing in him. 

Ling scoffs. “You thought wrong.” He rips the note off of its hinges and shoves it in Yoosung’s direction before waving his hand and dismissing him with a meager, “You can go.”

No one seems to bat an eye as Yoosung rounds the corner and heads out the entrance. Not even a single ‘hello’ or ‘yoosung?’ is to be heard. It’s almost as though everyone knows what happened and aren’t even daring to go against it. Yoosung doesn’t blame them though- after everything, he deserves it. 

When his feet meet the street, he throws the note into the nearest trash bin. He wouldn’t need it anymore. The words ‘notice of termination’ are nearly etched into his mind. 

-

There wasn’t much motivation left for him to make any food. The only thing he could muster was putting a cup of ramen in the microwave and pressing the buttons- and even then, he postponed actually getting it when it was done. 

It seemed like too much work. 

Hell, even LOLOL seemed like work at this point. Instead, he was sitting on his armchair, staring down at the small coffee table he had as he picked at the bland noodles, wondering how long those final notice papers had been sitting there. 

It had to have been at least a week. 

On tv, he only had basic cable, but that was good enough- even if it was only news channels and old sitcoms. He watched reruns of Most People Appreciate Ray even though he didn’t know what was going on, just watching the characters yell and run across the screen. Eventually, he abandoned his post, leaving the television to drone on and on and on…

Yoosung wasn’t really thinking anymore, but that was okay. It was what made it easier. Not thinking would make this all end a bit quicker. The rope he tied in little knots between his fingers was thinner, but sturdy, and he knew it would hold up well. Despite knowing this, he doubled it up, just to make absolutely sure it wouldn’t break.

There were very few things that he liked about his little apartment- it was always under construction and the landlord refused to go any further until other tenants moved in- so things were always breaking and always in need of repair. But Yoosung found light in this, relishing in that the beams for the ceiling were exposed in some spots due to moldy drywood. He didn’t have to think too hard about where to swing the rope over…

He didn’t want to think anymore anyway. 

Yoosung also found a fondness in his one kitchen chair. It was sturdy enough to hold him in his full weight, even when standing on it, even wobbling slightly. And- if it were to tip over- it probably wouldn’t hold him up very well any more. It’s awkward legs would give out at just the slightest, firm push, and that was convenient for him. 

It was a good chair. 

Out of all the thoughts he could have been thinking about, it was of ceiling beams and wobbly chairs. Yet, even now, Yoosung’s legs were quaking as they held him precariously on such a wobbly chair- the rope around his throat already rubbing the skin raw. He realized, with bated breath and suddenly very clammy hands-

He was scared. 

Best not to put too much thought to it. 

The chair filled it’s purpose well, and so did the beams. The chair toppled, the beams remained sturdy, and everything was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Yoosung swore that the rope he bought was sturdy. He’s seen it used to lift hundred pound weights, it could carry him just fine couldn’t it? 

Yet here he was, collapsed, out of breath on his apartment floor, a cold sweat erupted on his brow and heart racing like a triathlete. After the briefest moment, he scrambled up to investigate the problem when he saw exactly what happened. 

The rope broke- but not from pressure. It couldn’t have been. The twines would have flown open- but they hadn’t, instead, the rope had separated in a clean strike, the ends singed a deep black.

Yoosung dwelled on it for only a moment, his attention soon grabbed by the being standing in his kitchen. 

The man was flooded in light, so much that one would swear that a spotlight was shining on him (although that couldn’t possibly be since the lightbulb in the kitchen had been broken for months). He seemed adorned in precious silk, face framed by red hair and lustrous, feathery wings expanding from behind him. The man looked frightened for some reason, green eyes wide and brow arched in concern. His mouth was slightly parted, as if he had been saying something until his voice was lost in the air. 

Yoosung stared at him, jaw hanging open, and suddenly- he was okay. 

“Are you- my guardian angel?”


	2. Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung actually goes through his mail for once and finds a letter from an old friend. He also gets to test his vet skills for the first time!

Yoosung, for the first time in a long while, woke up to nothing but the desire to get up. His alarm wasn’t even set to go off for another thirty minutes. It was surprising, yes- but not alarming in that he had felt similar, calm mornings these last few days. 

Sitting up and kicking off the sheets, he rolled up his sleeve and looked at the sharpie mark on his wrist, although faded, still there, and he sighed. Three days ago, he drew on his wrist, seeing if what had happened was a dream. It was still here, so it had to mean something, right? 

Still, Yoosung wasn’t sure what to make of such an encounter. The man had looked like an angel, although perhaps a little weathered, and he had a holiness and pure love that Yoosung could just sense in the mere seconds he had to observe him. What was one supposed to do upon meeting an angel anyway? What was he supposed to think? Was he crazy?

He trudged to the living area he had and was about to rummage the cupboards for food when a knock at the door alerted him. At the door- there was a young woman, not too much older than Yoosung, holding some envelopes. “Hello, you are Yoosung Kim right?”

Yoosung nodded, doing his best to give a coherent response as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. “Oh- well- I’m sorry to bother you, my grandmother just received your mail again, so I thought I’d return it…” She held out the pieces of mail, and Yoosung took them, noticing a few already opened. “Sorry about that, she didn’t know they were yours and opened them, I hope it wasn’t detrimental…” 

Yoosung flipped through the pages quickly, shaking his head, not quite reading them. “Nah, probably just junk anyway. Thank you though.”

“No problem.”

In all honesty, Yoosung usually wouldn’t go through his mail. Only if it had an odd coloring or the words ‘final notice’ did he really check- but seeing the ripped open mail got him curious. He looked back at the envelopes and found one piece, handwritten, in cursive.

From Hyun Ryu. 

 

Yoosung!

The first person I could think of sending a letter to was you, so here we are! Let me start off with this- I’ll be coming home soon! In two weeks, it seems like the production will be done, and I can head back. They say the new episodes will be very successful, and they might call me back for more roles once they come back to Korea!

Honestly, that’s all I really wanted to tell you- I want to leave all of my stories for when we hang out again! Set the date, Yoosung! I’ll text you!

Zen ~

 

Yoosung clasped the letter tight, excitement suddenly boiling in his chest. He had almost forgotten that Zen was all the way in America for shooting, then again, after the death of his cousin, a lot of things he had tend to forget… 

He shook his head, not wanting to relive something so bad when the excitement of Zen coming back was still so prevalent. 

It was, while slapping the letter on the fridge in order to remember the date, that Yoosung noticed another piece of mail that had been opened by his neighbor. It was a bundle of newspaper, haphazardly rolled back together, with the pages disorganized. Instead of the general news being the front page, it was the classifieds section, adorned with little blurbs of ‘Need A’ and ‘Help Wanted’ requests. 

Yoosung wasn’t one for help wanted ads- but it did remind him of his jobless state, and in came the aching pit in his stomach. His bills would be coming in shortly, and he for sure had nothing in savings to help him this time…

Did he even have a resume? Or a cover letter? Or references?

Yoosung collapsed onto his arm chair, squeaking in response to the sudden weight of his entirety, and allowing all the questions to swim in his mind. He supposed he could apply to another fast food place, or perhaps another delivery place- but it would still be forever until he would have money for rent, or bills, or food…

What was he going to do?

You could start with a shower. 

Yoosung slowly sat up straight, stretching out his arms and sighing heavily. He had another hour until class started- and he wasn’t feeling up to just sitting and being silent. For some reason, the intense urge to take a shower had dawned upon him, and he found himself turning the knob, adjusting the head just the slightest bit so that water actually came out, and hopped into the shower. 

It was colder than he liked, it always was, but it got the job done. And he had just enough soap left for another shower anyway- he was a little grateful to that. He kneaded the soap into his greasy hair, slowly but surely washing away the dirt and grime from days, perhaps weeks, of skulking. Then he rubbed soap onto his skin, riding the dirt there. It was almost painful, all the energy it took to just wash off. 

Then he stepped out, the cold breeze hitting him hard, and he wrapped a towel around himself. The feeling was nice. Sure, he hadn’t washed this towel in a few uses- but it felt good to have it around him. 

He brushed his hair, brushed his teeth, even put in his old clips that he used to wear all the time. Instead of just putting on a button up though- he dug around in his drawers a little bit. In the back, stuffed behind his socks and boxers, there was a few older shirts and worn pants back there, and he wondered if they still fit him. 

One shirt in particular, he remembered fondly. It was a sweater in dark green with red trim, peppered in little weiner dogs wearing sweaters. It was a Christmas sweater he got two years ago from Rika. He hadn’t worn it this year. 

In a movement he hadn’t quite registered, he slipped the sweater over his head and adjusted it. It was February, but he didn’t care. He felt festive. 

After pulling on some jeans, he was ready to start the day. 

And there was still thirty minutes until class started. How had he managed to do so much without any time passing, Yoosung might have never been sure. All he knew now was that he was fresh, clean, and suddenly very motivated. 

His thoughts wandered though. He thought back to a couple days ago, and to the encounter he had with that mysterious man- if he could even call him that. He looked up, staring at the beams exposed in the ceiling, hardly worn from the pressure his body brought on the rope once tied up there. It made him wonder even more- if that man had prevented him from dying, saved him, then what was he supposed to feel now? 

Was he relieved? He didn’t really feel like it. Was he disappointed? Not that either. What was he supposed to do now, after all of that?  
If he tried again, and perhaps succeeded, would that creature’s actions have been in vain?

And should he do it anyway?

And why was he asking all these questions when he wasn’t even totally sure that this had even happened? 

Was it all a dream? 

“Was it just a dream?” Yoosung muttered weakly to himself. Of course, no one responded, he was alone- but for some reason, the lack of a response was kind of disheartening. He looked around. Nothing was different, obviously so, and there wasn’t anyone around- why was he trying to look for something? “Were you just a dream?” He calls out again, and again, nothing responds. Why was he calling out for something, why was he acting so crazy?

It had to have been a dream. It couldn’t have been real. Angels aren’t real, they can’t be. 

Yoosung stood up, spinning around, scanning his surroundings. No one was here, only him. He was alone. 

“Are you even real?!”

A loud crash interrupted his train of thought, and Yoosung scrambled back as the sound came from his window. He was convinced someone threw something through his window, like a baseball or a rock- what if it hit him? He ducked, covering his head instinctively before soon realizing that it couldn’t have hit him. 

Looking back at his window, yes, it was shattered- but sitting on the sill was not a ball or a rock- but a bird. A crow, specifically. It was still, a few pieces of glass having pierced its wings, and its legs hanging in the air and giving minute twitches. 

But it wasn’t dead. 

With a slight poke, its eyes opened and it lifted its head up slightly, giving a little caw and seeming to breathe heavily. Yoosung stared at it dumbfoundedly, wondering what he should do. Should he call animal control? Should he bring it outside? Should he- put it out of its misery? No, it all seemed wrong. And it stared at him, cawing quietly, as though asking for help. 

He could try that. 

Yoosung scrambled through his bathroom cupboard, found a pair of tweezers and a couple napkins, and ran back. His movements were quick but very gentle, carefully grabbing the few pieces of glass and plucking them out of the bird’s wings. The crow was lucky to only have the pieces in its wings- perhaps having killed it if it had been in its body. After all the pieces were pulled out, Yoosung took the napkins and dabbed it against the small wounds on the bird’s wings.

Aside from that- there wasn’t much he could do, and he knew that much. And he’d have to leave for class soon anyway. 

Before he left, Yoosung left a cup of water and pieces of bread beside the bird, the crow now sitting up and rotating its head, observing its new surroundings and very quickly peering sharply at its savior. 

“Uhm- you just rest, I guess. You can leave when you want- feel better…” Yoosung awkwardly farewelled the bird, its gaze still locked on him as he closed the door and left for campus. 

Now that HAD to be a coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally would not recommended that you help a crow like that!!! Any bird could have a disease or could hurt you- the best thing you can do in a situation like that would be to call animal control and ask them what to do/come and pick up the bird! This goes for any wild animal by the way! Just thought that should have been said XD


	3. Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung goes for coffee, despite the ever present urge to lay in bed. A talk with his landlord is, although petrifying, brought more good than bad- at least when considering the broken window.

Today, he was going out for coffee. 

Yoosung never thought in the many years he’s been alive that it would take so much goddamn effort just to get ready for coffee with Jaehee- his old friend from high school. Well- more like an acquaintance, they had only gotten to know each other when they were assigned lab partners for a history project and Jaehee had constantly been pestering him about keeping up with his portion of the work. 

But that was years ago, and this was now. He was a grown man- and doing the same thing in college… but that was beside the point. 

After getting himself dressed and his hair brushed, he trudged out to the living area and shuddered, the cold air outside suddenly shocking him to the core. Yoosung rushed over to the window and adjusted the plastic covering, even though it wouldn’t do much to keep the cold air out. 

The window was still broken, but the crow wasn’t there anymore, obviously. Yoosung was happy with that, it meant the crow was still alive, hopefully. He gave a little smile at the thought, then left the house. 

He’d talk to his landlord about the broken window later. 

-

“So you got into SKY University? And you thought not to tell me- why?” Jaehee sounded almost blasphemous, perhaps even offended, but Yoosung knew it wasn’t true. She just cared. 

He nods, smiling softly. “Ah yeah, a couple scholarships helped. I didn’t enroll quickly enough to get a dorm so I’m in one of the apartments nearby.”

Jaehee raises a mocking brow, as though she isn’t really surprised. He was always known for procrastination. “And how is that treating you?”

“Oh? Pretty good!” 

Jaehee sips her coffee, looking over her glasses at Yoosung, her lips curled in a frown as she recognized his lie. She didn’t press it though, not yet at least. She sets down her mug and produces a somber expression, sliding her hand a little closer to set itself on the top of Yoosung’s free one. “I… never really got the chance to give you my condolences- for Rika.” 

Yoosung swallows, holding Jaehee’s hand awkwardly. He never really knew how to interact with her on levels such as these. Jaehee was a caring friend, despite all the troubles Yoosung had put her through in the past. What had he done to get her kindness?

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thank you, Jaehee.”

They delved into a solemn silence, only breaking it to give in to awkward small talk. This was another thing that Yoosung like about Jaehee. Everyone else, from his family, to the few friends, to some of his coworkers- they all talked too much. Asked if there was anything they could do, anything he needed, anything he’d like to talk about. But Jaehee understood. All he needed was some time for himself. 

Just some time to think. 

“I noticed you sounded a little… disheartened, when I mentioned school. Is something going on? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” She probes suddenly. 

Although the change of subject brings him comfort, he also becomes anxious. Yoosung wrings his hands, fiddling with the coffee mug as his stomach twisted in knots. Jaehee was an incredibly smart woman. She could multi-task, seek out what she loved, and all do it without much of a thought. 

And here was Yoosung- just struggling to find the will to turn on the fucking computer every day. 

“It’s- stupid…”

“It’s not stupid.”

Yoosung shakes his head, his throat tightening and lip trembling with the threat of tears. She probably did think he was stupid, how couldn’t she? “It’s just- just my classes. I don’t know, I haven’t been doing well.”

Jaehee gives him a raised brow, the expression staying for only a brief moment before she delves back into her coffee. “What do you mean by… not doing well?”

“You can imagine,” Yoosung tries to cover. Glancing up at Jaehee tells him that she doesn’t appreciate the meager reply. He sighs, the smack of the coffee mug he held onto the table even scaring him. “I’m failing all of my courses, alright? You happy?”

Jaehee held a hand up. She was known for her resilience with angry people, she worked for a multimillionaire company after all. “I was just interested, Yoosung.” She takes the last sip of her coffee and gets up. “So- I have to run. Want to get together some other time?”

Yoosung gives a small nod. “Yeah- I’d love to.”

-

Yoosung always felt awkward around his landlord. He had a thick voice that he usually couldn’t understand and always seemed just a few poorly placed words for him to start screaming. He had been reluctant in calling him for the broken window- knowing that he would get scolded like a little kid and a fine would be coming his way. 

The blonde rubbed his wrists, trying to relax and focus on the essay he had due a month ago (maybe, if he sweet-talked enough, his professor might let him turn it in for very partial credit?) while his landlord was taking measurements of the window. It was hard to focus with all the noises, from the chaos in the streets, to the sound of the tape measure his landlord was continually whipping around. 

He gave up and threw the paper in the trash. 

“You say a bird was flying in here?” Yoosung manages to catch before the landlord is, again, mumbling something quietly. 

“Uhm- yeah. A crow. Crashed right in.” Yoosung mumbles.

His landlord turns around, writing something in a notepad before mumbling something else past his teeth. “Crow huh? People think they’re evil you know? Like scarecrows, since they pester.”

Yoosung doesn’t know how to respond, the inconsistent babbling from his landlord almost perturbing him into fright. At any point, if he wasn’t careful- this could all come crumbling down. His landlord approaches him, giving him a stern look. “Do ya think it mean pesterin’? The crow that broke your window.”

“It… pester?” Yoosung tilted his head, more bewildered than frightened now. “No- no it just looked confused.”

His landlord smiles suddenly. “Ah yes- see- that is right!” He pats Yoosung’s shoulder, handing him the paper he had been scribbling on. “Some religions say crows symbolize clairvoyance, you know? Maybe you are special.”

Yoosung stalls, glancing at the piece of paper briefly before staring at his landlord firmly. “Oh- reminds. You should move soon, I am renovating new apartments, much nicer for you. It’ll be cheaper too.”

“Oh- uhm- okay. Thank you!” Yoosung follows the landlord quickly, trying to understand why he had written his phone number, a personal one, for him. 

“Yes- and since crow- don’t worry about the window. I will pay for it! Have good day, Kim!”

Yoosung waved feebly, still too caught up in his shock to actually say goodbye back to his landlord as he left. That was the nicest he had ever seen his landlord, and even after needing the window replaced? 

That night, it was cold, and dreadfully so. No matter how much duct tape he used, the cold air seemed to leak in through the cracks. He burrowed deeper into his blankets, trying to shut out the cold as best as he could. 

Yet, Yoosung discovered, that when he thought about the angel he must’ve met those many days ago- he felt warm. His dreams were pleasant.


	4. Pause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeran goes through a few past memories, even the first time he met Yoosung. Turns out- being a guardian angel is hard- but he got the hang of it eventually. (WARNING! There are a few instances in this chapter where suicide/the process of it is described.)

He thought he had known the most painful feeling in the world for the longest time. Waking up was painful, his joints filled with an ache and throat tight and dry. In his chest, there was no desire to do a single thing. Every step felt like a trudge through the mud. And all that doing nothing did not help with the self-loathing. 

He hated himself so much. 

He didn’t do anything for the most part. He barely got out of bed. The only thing that could be the exception would be getting up to move to the living room and sulk instead. He didn’t have a job. He didn’t go to school. He didn’t have anything to look forward to.

So why not just end it all?

It was somewhat relieving, actually. Toppling the chair, dangling from rope, it made him feel weightless. Saeran’s only regret with the whole thing, for a long while, had been doing it in his room, leaving Saeyoung to find his hanging corpse. 

After a couple of years, he almost seemed to forget. 

It became a blur for the most part. He wandered the streets, unseen by most people, disbelieved by others, and wondering what the hell he was supposed to be doing. He was just given a pair of feathery wings and set out on his own like a fletchling thrown out of the nest. Admittedly, wondering around like that was much better than buried in his bed before- but he still felt so lost. 

Until he met Yoosung. 

They always said that, eventually, every guardian angel found their human, someone to help with some task. More often than not, they find old family members and help them cope with loss or deep desires from their living days that they remembered. 

Saeran thought it was bullshit, how could he not? He didn’t even deserve to be an angel- how could he be trusted to help someone? And, of course, with such a stigma, he was sure he’d be helping his brother to… stop being depressed? He wasn’t sure. He had been preparing for that day, finally confronting his brother after everything. Just like Saeyoung had run away from him when they were kids… he had run away from him. Or, at least, that’s what it felt like. 

They said it felt like a tugging. Like a tingling in your entire being pulling you magnetically toward the human you were destined to assist. Imagine how surprised he must’ve been, pulling closer and closer to SKY university. Saeyoung would never go to a college like this, right? So what was the point?

If you had asked Saeran what it was that drew him to the blonde college student, he wouldn’t be able to answer it. There was that itch in his chest, something that drew him closer, as though to say ‘take a good look at this lively human’, and he couldn’t stop himself from bending to such a will. 

For a while, he merely hovered over the mortal, following behind him with gentle wing strokes. The student seemed to be having a normal day, going to his classes, then going to work, then coming home. He took note that the student sometimes struggled focusing in class, doodling in his notebooks, halfway falling asleep, and at work, he sometimes struggled to do physical tasks, although perhaps not out of muscle weakness. 

He seemed- almost sad. 

Saeran wouldn’t blame him for that. The state of his apartment was enough to make anyone depressed. The place was fucking falling apart- and were those ants? Wasn’t he on the second floor? How did they get in?

Saeran’s disgust had been interrupted when the student was suddenly talking on the phone, just barely loud enough for him to hear as well. 

“Yes, this is Yoosung. How is she?” Yoosung was fiddling with his fingers, tapping on his coffee table with an anxiety Saeran was all too familiar with. Saeran couldn’t hear the person on the other side of the phone, but the contortion on Yoosung’s face told him everything he needed to know. 

His lip curled, and tears trailed down his cheeks slowly. “You- you said you were taking care of her. You said she was doing better- you lied to me!” He got up suddenly, his free hand gripping at his hair in frustration and teeth gritting hard. “Why? Why did you do that?! She’s- she can’t be gone! You took that- you wouldn’t let me see her?! Why?! WHY?!”

He slammed his phone down and suddenly was out the door so quickly that Saeran could barely keep up. They ended up at the local hospital, where Yoosung was pushing past concerned nurses and doctors into a private room. Saeran peeked with concern, almost not catching sight of Yoosung suddenly tackling some man in the room, screaming at the top of his lungs. 

“You didn’t let me see her! Why did you do that?! I couldn’t see her before she died!” He had a firm grip on the man’s shirt, seemingly shaking him from the position he had over him. Nurses were rushing to try to stop Yoosung, soon intervened when a guard came in and pulled the blonde away.

“I didn’t want you to worry, I’m so sorry! I thought she would be okay, I really did.” With Yoosung finally off him, the other man was able to stand up, albeit a little shakily, having to adjust his shades to hide his eyes a little better. 

“Liar! You never wanted me around her anyway! You hated me! And I hate you… I HATE YOU!”

Yoosung had been promptly escorted out, along with the slowly following Saeran, screaming the entire time and flailing until other policemen had arrived and sat him down for talking. He didn’t know completely what was going on, this was like walking in on a bickering couple at the grocery store- but Saeran knew that this boy was distraught. For some reason, the urge to help him was strong, and sure, he didn’t know what he could do to help- but why not give it a try?

-

Saeran found out eventually what his use was. Yoosung was a sad man- trudging through life without a purpose, without motivation, without the desire to even live. He was just floating through a meaningless space. And Saeran knew that feeling. 

But everything he tried to do to help seemed to fall upon deaf ears. He made suggestions, pointed at things that might help him, and tried to put things in convenient places- all for Yoosung to just shrug him off. At this point, he was just about yelling. 

“Hey! Get off the computer and go outside! I know you’ll regret it later- I always did!”

“If you call in again, your boss isn’t gonna be happy! Just go!”

“Change your shirt for once, Jesus Christ!”

“When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?!”

Every time he yelled in Yoosung’s face, the kid just didn’t hear him. He just kept fucking up. He skipped class to go on the computer. He didn’t go outside for a week straight. He called in- and when was the last time he’s brushed his teeth? Saeran wasn’t even sure he’d seen the kid brush his teeth… did he even own a toothbrush?

Eventually- trying to stop or start him seemed impossible… and he just- gave up. That’s the only thing he had been good at when he was alive- why not do it now?

Instead, he just watched. Yoosung continued in his spiral downwards, barely going to class at all (and when he did, he just looked at the pages of his notebook and sometimes doodled), not even bothering to call work- and the final notices on the coffee table were a horrendous shade of pink. 

When the door slammed shut, Saeran could catch Yoosung’s tired form from the corner of his eye. He had waited here for him to come back from work- but that was quick. Saeran had gotten good at reading the human’s face, and usually it had been so bland. But right then, in that instant, there was absolutely nothing to him. It petrified Saeran. Not because he would have thought Yoosung was a usually happy person, but because he knew that expression; he knew that feeling. 

Saeran watched almost like a dog waiting for its owner to tell it it was a good boy. He just sat there staring at the television for an excruciatingly long time. At some point, he had nibbled on some microwave ramen, but he left most of it to grow cold. Then he got up- 

The angel perked up, his wings shooting out almost in defense as Yoosung fiddled with what looked like manilla rope. He had hoped to god, hoped to everything in his being that maybe- just maybe- he was tying something together for a little project. 

But he wasn’t. 

“No-! Stop it! Stop what you’re doing! You don’t know how bad this is!”

Yoosung didn’t hear him. Saeran watched horrified as the human tied the rope up and dragged the kitchen chair over, propping himself on top of it as he slipped his head through the loop. He tried to hold the chair, to prop the boy up, anything- then in one fell swoop, he was flailing, hanging hard against the rope. Saeran’s chest ached at the sound of sputtering and the creaking of the beam he hung from. 

Saeran shot up, his hands wrapping around the rope in desperation. He tried pulling it, perhaps hard enough to snap the beam, but it did absolutely nothing. No- no it couldn’t just end like that. He’d regret everything, his family, his friends- everyone would miss him terribly. At least Saeran didn’t disappoint anyone with his escapade. 

He could feel fire burning up inside of him, his desire growing, and desperation peaking. His grip tightened, and he could have sworn that his hands had grown just the slightest bit warmer. 

A flash of light shot him back, one with the power filled in electricity, and Yoosung collapsed like a sack of potatoes. A flood of relief filled Saeran, and he hovered over him to see if he would be alright.

Eventually, Yoosung did move, tugging the rope over his head and rubbing his throat, still sputtering as he tried to catch his breath. His throat wasn’t hurt too badly, was it? Did the impact snap his jaw- or did anything else hurt?   
“Are you okay?”

Saeran knew that saying something wouldn’t help- Yoosung couldn’t hear him. But it was his first instinct. 

And Yoosung perked up, almost as though he could hear him. He looked at him right then and there, staring him in the eye. Saeran looked taken aback, his wings shooting up again in surprise. Could he- did he- was he…?

“Are you- my guardian angel?”

Suddenly, Saeran’s mouth felt dry, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“Yes.”


	5. Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to look up for Yoosung. He gets to catch up with his old friend Zen, sharing stories of what had happened recently. He is offered a new job, and meets C&R President Jumin Han. The window gets fixed and, for some reason, his landlord is still nice? It doesn't match up to the meeting of a lifetime though...

Linger

 

This week had been one of the best weeks in Yoosung’s life, and he wondered if life could really get any better than this. Of course- like any other week- it started with Sunday. 

“Hey- Yoosung! God it’s great to see you again!” Zen was always so eccentric when it came to his friends, and Yoosung was honored to see it. The public always saw his suave persona, and here Yoosung was, being tightly hugged by an almost giddy actor. “What have you been up to? Anything cool happen recently?”

The two sat down at a fast food joint, ordering a small meal to just chat over. Zen didn’t get much to eat, trying to watch his figure for more projects in the near future- but the same couldn’t be said for Yoosung. He pigged out on fries and hamburgers, listening to whatever Zen had to say until this moment. 

“Ahh- well…” Yoosung’s voice was muffled with all the food he was eating, and he took a moment to swallow and take a drink of his soda. “Mostly just playing LOLOL, you know me. Uhm-” He wondered if mentioning the crow was important, and then wondered if Zen believed in angels. Did he? Or would he just think Yoosung was crazy? “A crow crashed through my window a while ago…”

 

Zen sputtered, looking shocked. “What? Did it like- attack you?”

Yoosung shook his head. “No- I think it was just really confused. I gave it some water and it flew off the next day.” Zen seemed to still grimaced at the thought, so Yoosung added, “It turned out fine. My landlord is gonna get it fixed for me soon. I won’t have to pay for it.”

“Well, that’s good at least…”

They chatted for a while over fatty foods, and Yoosung only grew more admirable of Zen’s talents. The show he had premiered in was based in America, and his character was only a chameo. However, one of the writers lived in Korea and was interested in making a contract for a movie script. If things worked out, and he needed another actor, he would be contacting Zen. 

“He should be calling me to confirm if something’s going on by the end of the month,” Zen explained proudly, grinning wide and positively glowing. 

Yoosung laughed a little. He was jealous of Zen, that was true. The man was handsome, talented, and his dreams were coming true…

At one point, Yoosung wanted to be a veterinarian. He remembered growing up helping animals, picking up turtles lost in the street and helping them cross, putting baby birds back in their nests, and guiding frogs back to where the water was so they wouldn’t get hurt. Where had he lost all the passion?

Zen sighed softly, his smile fading a little as another thought came to mind. “I took a nap on the plane- and I had a horrible nightmare.” He admits randomly, seemingly bashful at the idea that he had a dream. “You were in it…”

Yoosung perked up, staring almost concerned in Zen’s direction. It was a known idea that Zen dreamed of the future (they had tested it several times!), and the idea that Yoosung was in one of his nightmares was a little bit more than concerning. 

“You were about to cross the street- you were listening to music. And- well- you didn’t see a car coming towards you. When it hit you, you erupted into black smoke… and you were gone…” Zen had been lost in his own thoughts as he described the scene, but seeing Yoosung’s concerned expression shook him to reality. “It’s just a dream, Yoosung. It kinda set me off but- don’t worry about it, please?”

Yoosung nodded, giving a shaky smile. “I’ll do my best, Zen.”

-

On Tuesday, Yoosung met Jaehee for coffee again. This time, though- she came with company. 

“Yoosung, meet Jumin. He was my boss a couple of months ago,” Jaehee had started everything off, pushing Jumin closer so that the two of them could shake hands. 

Yoosung, although shaking Jumin’s hand, made a confused face. “Was? Where were you working before- and- where are you working now?” There was too many questions to ask and not enough time to get it all out there. 

“C&R Corporations. I’m sure you have heard of it Yoosung- I was doing paperwork, organization, and planning there. And now I’m working at Minnie’s shop. I apologize for not really telling you much recently… I’ve been quite busy,” Jaehee had excused, ordering her coffee immediately afterward before sitting down at their usual spot. 

Yoosung looked back at Jumin, a slight trace of fright coursing through him. The man looked so serious and uptight, and even just drinking coffee with him seemed like something to prepare for. “It’s nice to meet you, Jumin.”  
“It is certainly quite a pleasure to be meeting you as well, Yoosung.”

Oh god he even talked like a professional business man. Yoosung could only barely imagine how much power and money this man had- he could probably say one word and have anyone imaginable eliminated. 

He better not get on his bad side. 

Yoosung got his usual drink, as well did Jaehee, and Jumin got a glass of water. First sitting down was incredibly awkward, with Yoosung not knowing what to say and with Jumin just about staring at him, as if waiting to hear something in particular. 

“So, Yoosung- I should probably tell you why I brought Jumin along,” Jaehee broke the ice, adjusting awkwardly in her seat. “I’ve heard about what happened at Boulder’s…”

Yoosung visibly grimaced and tried to not look Jumin in the eye. This man was the president of C&R, he had the world and money at his fingertips- and he was just a lowly, about to be kicked out of his apartment, failing college student. 

And jobless, don’t forget jobless. 

Jumin clears his throat, seemingly wanting to interject before Yoosung grew too uncomfortable. “Allow me to take the discussion from here, Miss Kang,” he insists, only to bring Jaehee to sighing. 

“Call me Jaehee now, I can’t stand you using my last name…” She complained. 

“Err- Jaehee then.” Jumin shrugged lazily and turned to Yoosung. “I had contacted your high school in concern to your performance- and I must say, I was supremely impressed. You kept a very high GPA all throughout high school, even middle school. I understand you are having difficulties with college classes though, is this true?”

Jumin was quick to be personal, but for some reason, Yoosung didn’t mind all too much. “Ehm, yeah. It’s hard to keep up with.”

The businessman nods. “I can understand that. It’s hectic, especially with having moving out and paying your own bills. That is beside the point though. I’ll get right to said point- I am looking for a new assistant.” Yoosung’s eyes widened, now understanding what ‘strings’ Jaehee had pulled. “Jaehee told me she could only recommend you for her replacement. You’re reliable, kind, hard-working, and know supreme organizational skills. At least, this is what she had told me. Is this true?”

Yoosung fixed his dropped jaw and nodded hard. “Sorry for my shocked state, Mr. Han. I was just not expecting this.” He tried to excuse himself, and Jumin actually laughed. 

“That is quite alright, Yoosung. I will tell you what, how about you come to my office next week Monday and we can talk more about the position and what skills you will need. If everything works out- I’m sure you’ll be getting a position within the month. Does that sound alright to you?” Jumin offered kindly. 

Yoosung nodded again, this time grinning wide and perking up substantially. “Heck yeah! Oh- I mean- yes, Mr. Han. I will see you on Monday then.”

Jumin stood and shook Yoosung’s hand, excusing himself to get back to paperwork. 

“I’m reminded now…” Jaehee suddenly piped up, shaking Yoosung out of his shocked stupor and making him turn to see her. She got up, fixing her dress and finishing off her coffee. “Since I have more time without the paperwork- we should be able to meet up for coffee more. If you’d like… I can maybe help tutor you.”

Yoosung blinked a few times, his pause only furthering the awkwardness that had resided from before. “Ohh- oh Jaehee. You don’t… You don’t have to do that. I really should be paying more attention in class anyway…”

She shrugs, remaining relaxed. “It would be wise to accept it, especially since you probably have to get caught up on some of the work load. Think about it- I am always open to helping.”

Yoosung smiled back and nodded. “Alright, thanks Jaehee. For everything.”

-

On Thursday- he finally got a new window. 

It was mostly annoying than anything. He was writing out the outline for an essay when they had started, and four hours later he had barely written the introduction paragraph. It was the sawing and hammering that really did it; he just couldn’t focus. 

“There we go- there- thank you so much.”

As the workers left, his landlord was admiring the work they had done. The small man turned to face Yoosung, an excited grin in place. “How does it look, Sung?”

Yoosung peered back, nodding slowly. It looked sturdy- and like it would actually seal out rain and cold. “It looks good…” He got up, walking to his landlord nervously. “Uhm, I am so sorry, Rey. My rent might be a little late this month- I lost my job recently…” 

He was preparing for a yell or a threat, perhaps even a date to get his shit out- but instead, he got a pat on his shoulder. “I know troubles, Sung. I get it. As soon as you can, right?”

Yoosung nodded surely. If he got the job with Jumin’s company, his first paycheck would go straight to Rey, he assured it. 

As Rey began leaving, he turned back to Yoosung, seemingly remembering something. “Yes, you must sign new lease soon, correct?” Yoosung nodded, and Rey quickly continued. “Before doing that- want you to check out new apartments. They are a block away, whole new building. Fifty less and little smaller, but I think it will match well with you. How’s that sound?”

So suddenly? Yoosung thought those apartments wouldn’t be finished for another few months. “Uhm- oh alright, Rey. I might not move though, it’s just kinda hard to move everything in the middle of the year and everything and… and I’m so busy…”

Rey shook his head with a slight wave. “That’s okay- I shall help you if it comes. Alright? And if you like, sign new lease, no need to pay another security, right? Also! Yes, they are pet friendly!” The landlord continued to look excited, looking jovial in a way that Yoosung had never seen. “I will call you later for it, goodbye Sung!”

Yoosung waved back awkwardly, wondering why he had such good turns of luck. “Alright- thanks, Rey.”

-

On Saturday, he visited a bookstore. 

It was a regular day, actually, better than a regular day. He woke up energized and went out for a walk. The walk was simply that for the most part, a walk. The sun was poking out between sparse clouds with the sky a bright blue. The weather was perfect. 

He stopped in his track when a crow landed in front of him. 

Yoosung actually yelped as the creature came out of nowhere, pecking the sidewalk a few times before looking up at him and cawing loudly. After a moment, Yoosung realized the oddness of the situation and laughed a little. A couple seconds passed before the crow even moved, and even then, it merely flew a few feet away. It turned around, peering back at Yoosung before cawing again. 

It looked as though it wanted to be followed. 

Yoosung knew it would be a bad idea. This was like the plot of a horror novel, the following of some strange object or a vicious creature only brought death. Despite his hesitance, he ended up following the crow. A part of him wondered, as he continued following the crow as it hopped along, if this was the same crow that crashed through his window. It was probably unlikely, but not completely nil. 

It stopped in front of a building, an antique bookstore, and then it turned. Before Yoosung could comprehend it, the crow seemed to fly away, as though its mission was complete. Yoosung might not have had much belief in the superstitious, but something about the crow, and something about this bookstore, made him feel like he should go in. 

So he did. 

The smell of books and wood polish hit him instantly, and he was filled with a sense of oldness that both inspired and petrified him. It felt like there was a mysterious force here, pulling him closer while also overwhelming him in its air. 

Yoosung honestly couldn’t describe the feeling. 

Every step he took made the floorboards creak. When he picked out books and opened them, the sheets of paper inside seemed almost brittle at times, and yet they held up in the motions of being turned. A glance at the front of the store, where the register was located, revealed an elderly woman hunched over lines of receipts wearing large spectacles. 

This place certainly had an atmosphere unlike any other. Yoosung halfway regretted following the crow’s advice, especially since he didn’t know what to find here. He walked around aimlessly, up until he disturbed a particular pile of books and a dove flew out. He screamed in fright and ducked as the bird flew off, cooing in its wake. 

One would describe it as dream like, or perhaps enlightening. He watched the dove as it perched in a high window and peered down, watching another being as it flipped through the pages of a different book. And Yoosung gasped. 

The window seemed to let light shine on him, accenting the bright red hair he had. He looked angelic, even from behind, with a calmness and softness that Yoosung swore he recognized. There might have not been wings, but he knew who it was. 

His guardian angel. 

Yoosung rushed forward and grabbed the man by the shoulder, turning him around with an exclamation of where he had been. 

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Yoosung’s giddiness drooped, shocked, and pulled away from the man. He was wearing glasses and had golden eyes, supremely different he had met so many days before. What he had mistaken for calmness was actually hidden sorrow (that much he could tell) and a hardness in his features that made him seem dangerous. 

“Y-you…” Yoosung shook, taking a step back. His breath was lost in the wind- this man was so much like his angel, his guardian, as though they were identical. The only difference was their eyes (and the wings of course). “You’re not my angel.”

The man sneered. “Duh, what the fuck are you talking about?” He spat. The man sounded aggressive, but his body language said different. 

Yoosung shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m- sorry. You looked like someone else. But you’re eyes are different…”

“What? Who?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know. He had green ones…”

The man huffed and stomped away, leaving the bookstore with another wave of anger that seemed almost uncharacteristic. Yoosung wasn’t sure- but he thought that’s what his crow had wanted him to see. When he looked up, he had noticed something else. 

The dove was gone.


	6. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen calls Yoosung in the early hours of the morning, and Yoosung discovers a way to properly talk to his guardian angel.

Yoosung had done research. He looked up the procedures, the dangers, and how to even start- and he was glad that he had went to the library that day. Websites on the internet had said that it didn’t matter if the board was new or not, as long as the planchette moved alright. But, as things turned out, he had found a ouija board at the library, tucked in an old box, only tattered slightly from the history it had. 

It felt- strange. 

That was the only way he could really describe it. Carrying it home felt almost like carrying a weight. It had a presence, a personality all its own. 

He lit some candles, turned off his phone, and sat at the rickety coffee table in his living room. A part of him felt silly for doing this. People who used ouija boards were either fanatics or stupid- and he was leaning towards the stupid option. Would he even get an answer? And if he did- it’s not like it would be the angel…

“Is there anyone there.” Admittedly, he was skeptical, and- apparently- you had to have an open mind to use a ouija board. He stared at the planchette, waiting for something to happen. Yoosung moved it around a little, repeating the question. 

Again- nothing happened. The atmosphere was stale, only the flickering of the candles providing any sort of stimulation to him. Yoosung sighed and sat back, just staring down at the strange board. Would his angel even want to talk to him? What if that was a one time thing? 

Yoosung grabbed the planchette, turning it over in his hands to see if anything in it was broken- but it looked fine, as far as he could tell. A sigh passed by his lips, weighing him down even more. Despite knowing that it wouldn’t work- he was still disappointed. 

“Are you even real? Are you still there?” Yoosung’s exasperation came out with his useless questions. He tossed the planchette off to the side, letting it clunk to the floor and laid back on the couch in defeat. 

No crow flew in the window, no man came through the light to show him the way- it was just Yoosung and the dimness of the candles. 

.

“No, no really. I’m glad you called- it kinda reminded me that I hadn’t eaten yet,” Yoosung assured over the phone, his voice slightly muffled in between bites of macaroni and cheese that he was eating from the pot he cooked it in. He was walking back and forth in the kitchen, just talking and eating, only with the presence of the faulty kitchen light bulb swinging overhead. 

“Are you sure?” Zen spoke from the other end. “Well- I guess you are a night owl…”

“Mhmm- plus, my insomnia has been acting up a bit recently. Couldn’t really sleep much these last few nights,” Yoosung admits, setting the pot down and opening the fridge to find something to drink. He decided on a juice box. 

“That fucking sucks, dude. I heard melatonin helps with that.” Zen offered up. He had previously called, somewhere around two in the morning, to tell Yoosung the good news of his recent role offer. He hadn’t even known how late it was becoming. It was almost three o’ clock… “I should probably let you go, Yoosung. I need to get to bed too. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Yoosung summons a laugh, sticking the straw into the box and taking a sip. “Mmn, I’ll try but no promises, kay Zen?”

“Alright- goodnight, Yoosung.”

“Yup, night, Zen.” Yoosung hung up and checked the time- 3:04, jeez, it really was getting late. He sipped his juice, opening up Tracebook and scrolling through his feed. 

That was when he noticed it. 

The websites said it was bad to leave ouija boards out. It was like a sign to spirits that they could do whatever they pleased. Then again- the board didn’t work, so he had nothing to worry about. 

Yoosung rounded the table and took out the case, only stopping when he saw the planchette, perched nicely in the middle of the board- the arrow of it pointing towards ‘yes’. Hadn’t he just thrown it on the floor? How did it-

_BzzING!_

He shook his head, glancing at his lit up phone notification. New emails, as always, from sites or companies that he gave his email out to just to see whatever article they were advertising at the time. He glanced at the subject blurb. 

**Subject: The time is now!**  
_The time is now-! Let’s start talking…_

Yoosung’s eyes widened, and he glanced back at the ouija board, the planchette still pointed at yes. He opened the email, just hoping- praying that it wasn’t anything frightening…

_The time is now-! Let’s start talking about your future! It’s never too early to start your 401K-_

He released a bated breath, if only a small one, and looked back at the board again. Let’s start talking? The time is now? Was it a sign?

Yoosung wasn’t sure what he was doing. Crossing his legs and sitting on the floor, he placed his fingers on the planchette and cleared his mind with a calm exhale.

“Is there anyone here…” 

For once- he felt nervous. The supernatural or occult usually never bothered him, but something was tingling at the base of his spine. It sucked his breath out and made his fingertips cold. To his horror- the planchette moved towards ‘yes’ once more. 

“Oh my god…” Yoosung withdrew his hands harshly, trembles shaking through him from his fingers to his toes. He couldn’t do this- no- not for real… this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real-

_BzzING!_

Yoosung jumped, his phone lighting up once more, another email. He hesitated in looking at the notification- but he knew he had to do it. 

**Subject: Don’t ignore it**  
_Have you seen the signals?_

He opened the email. 

_Have you seen the signals? Know the early signs of prostate cancer-_

There was no way that this was a fucking coincidence, no way in hell. 

Yoosung continued to hesitate, staring down at the planchette as though it might lunge out and bite him in any moment. Slowly, he inched closer, gingerly setting his fingers on the planchette. He pushed it around in little circles, wondering what else to say. 

“Are- are you my guardian angel?”

The planchette stopped and slowly inched towards the left, the tip of it pointing towards ‘yes’. Yoosung wasn’t sure if he should be happy with the confirmation or scared because there was an actual response. He steadied his breath before his next question. 

“Uhm- what is your name?”

**‘S’ - ‘A’ - ‘E’ - ‘R’ - ‘A’ - ‘N’**

Yoosung had to whisper the letters out loud in order to remember them. “Your name is- Saeran?”

The planchette pointed to yes. So far so good, Yoosung supposed. At least he had a name to give him. He realized, then, that he had no idea what he wanted to ask anymore. Websites had given him questions to ask when casually talking but- if he assumed this was his angel- they didn’t seem appropriate. 

Are angels human, or were they at one point? That’s what his mother had said once, when she tried to explain what death was for the first time. Way back then, when his goldfish died, and she had said… 

_“That’s when someone goes away to a better place, Heaven. When a person, or goldfish, has lived a full life, they die, and go into the great beyond. And sometimes- they come back as guardian angels and watch over us. Your great grandma, my grandma, is an angel, did you know that?”_

_“Really? Does she watch over you AND me?”_

_“Yes, of course! Because she loves both of us very VERY much.”_

He didn’t know anyone named Saeran, so why would he be watching over him. That was for a later time, for now, he wanted to know if he did have a previous life. 

“Were you- a person once?”

This time, the planchette seems to stall, trailing off to one side, then the other, before settling on ‘yes’. 

Yoosung sighed, tapping his fingers idly. “How did you die?”

**‘H’ - ‘A’ - ‘N’ - ‘G’**

“Hang…” The word feels stale, almost metallic, like blood. “Did someone- wait. Did you hang yourself?”

The planchette drifted to ‘yes’ once more. 

Yoosung sat back, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. So- this was his guardian angel, a person named Saeran, who had hung themselves. He still had so many questions, but exhaustion was developing quickly. But there was one more he had to ask. 

“Do you have a brother?”

The planchette was still for a long moment, not even answering no. Yoosung asked the question again, a little bit more clear- and it tilted towards ‘yes’ one final time. 

“Thank you. Goodnight, Saeran.” Yoosung had murmured it almost as though he were having an actual conversation with someone. 

The planchette drifted down, giving a final goodbye, and Yoosung put away the board- calmness settling in where nerves had been eating away at him. 

He yawned, stretching out and, finally, starting to feel tired. It was all for the best, after all, he had his interview with Jumin Han tomorrow, he couldn’t afford to be dozing off during that. 

As he laid down in bed, he felt comfortable. That being said, as he drifted off, Yoosung couldn’t help feeling as though someone were watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a suggestion or prompt you want me to write? Comment or send me a message on tumblr at tcohs-messenger!


	7. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung starts getting depressed again, and the questions begin starting up once more. Saeran isn't having that though.

Yoosung was used to gloomy days and darkened spirits- but why did this day suddenly come with such ominous undertones?

Yoosung wanted to feel good, happy, all that jazz despite the slight rain and cloudy skies, but it didn’t seem to work in the slightest. It was hard to push himself to take a shower, his body seemed to recoil as he ate his cereal, and class was droning on again. For a while, he was afraid of that slope coming back again. Was he slipping down again?

He wondered why Saeran had helped him in the first place. Saeran, his guardian angel, the being that saved his worthless ass of a life- why did he help _him_? Why was he _his_ guardian angel? Truth be told, he had actually been wondering these questions for a while, but it was only now that the questions were actually starting to bother him. 

With his classes over for the day, he popped in his earbuds and trudged back towards his apartment. Jumin probably wouldn’t want him. He was probably going to get evicted. SKY was going to drop him. Why was he even trying anymore? This end was inevitable- shouldn’t he just let it take him?

The gloominess slowly turned into light rain, and honestly, it just served to make his state even worse. His shoulders and hair quickly became damp within mere minutes. People around him were rushing to their cars or homes, but Yoosung couldn’t be pressed to go any faster than a slow trudge. He just stayed at his own pace, head hanging and hands dug into his pockets, fingers fumbling with his phone to switch songs. 

A flock of crows were perched on a street light, cawing at any passerby that came through their assumed territory. Again, though, Yoosung did not notice. 

Admittedly- Yoosung did have a problem with noticing details. 

Sure, he always looked both ways when crossing the street, and he did this time around too. But, ignoring the walk signal and even with no cars, it didn’t quite stop another car from speeding to get through the yellow light just in time. 

It happened so fast.

When a loud blare cut through his music, he tugged out an earbud to find the car heading right towards him. He stumbled back, but it wasn’t enough, he was going to get hit. That split second between life and death seems to drag on, or at least Yoosung figures that it had been forever. He lost his breath in that one moment, feet fumbling and hands coming out as though to protect himself. This was it. This was the end. 

Something, no not one thing, multiple sharp pricks hit him all at once. It pushed him back, making him fall back into the wet street below him. The honking continued, desperate, until a loud screech and the crunching of two cars colliding made it all stop. Instead, he could only hear muffled shouts and prolonged honking. 

Yoosung gasped, opening his eyes to see the dark grey skies above him. An upcoming car slowed to a stop in front of him, and the driver got out to help him up. “Hey, son, are you okay?” It was an older man asking him, slowly helping him to his feet. Yoosung glanced around, confused, looking to the intersection and visibly horrified to see two cars in the aftermath of the crash. 

“Did you get hit honey?” The passenger got out, probably the man’s wife, and was looking over Yoosung’s face and body. “Oh my- those crows really got you. Are you hurting anywhere honey?”

Yoosung felt his face, coming back with blood from the scratches scattering his skin. But no- he hadn’t been hit, he would have known if he was. While the husband was calling the police, the wife guided Yoosung to sit on the curb, trying to calm his still shocked form. Yoosung was shaking, trying to get a grip at what had actually happened.

Before he knew it, a police officer was bending down to his level, setting a hand on his knee. “Already bud, you need to tell us if you got hit at all. What’s your name?”

“Y-Yoosung Kim. No, I didn’t get hit.”

“Alright, Yoosung, can you tell me what happened? I would like to know your viewpoint on all of this.”

With shaking voice, Yoosung described what happened. He admitted that he crossed when he shouldn’t have, but the light was also yellow when he was crossing. After that, the officer went to talk to the people who got in the accident. 

It went by in a blur. 

Too shocked to properly walk, the nice couple had driven him home. They even offered to get some food and water for him, but Yoosung refused it, they had already done so much for him. The wife had insisted upon cleaning up the small wounds on Yoosung’s face, and he had to agree to that much at least. Apparently- just before the car had collided with him- the flock of crows from before had swooped in, the force of their flight pushing him back just enough to throw him into the next lane and out of harm’s way. 

The wife described it as a magnificent and coincidental miracle. 

Yoosung knew it wasn’t just that. 

They dropped him off at his apartment, even walking him to his door just to make sure he was okay. Yoosung stumbled in, his body still trembling just the slightest bit as he plopped down on the couch. 

Slowly, his thoughts began catching up with his shocked state. He shouldn’t have been alive, that car should have hit him head on. It was amazing he was still alive. This time however, he knew exactly why he was. 

“Saeran…” The name leaves his lips in a whisper, but he knows that- if the angel was here- he could hear him. It was silent for a long moment, and Yoosung just listened, up until…

_Tink Tink_

A small tapping broke the silent, like that of flicking glass with a needle. Yoosung instantly went to the window and parted the curtains. A crow was perched just outside the window, barely holding onto the edge just outside. It had something in its beak. 

Yoosung pushed the window open, and the crow hopped in as if it owned the place. He just sat and watched for a moment as the bird looked around almost curiously. After its short curiousity, it took a tentative step closer to the human that gave it entry and dropped the item it had on the sill. 

It was a ring, made of steel or perhaps even silver with little crosses etched into it. Yoosung picked it up to observe it better and found a word inscripted on the inside of the band. Choi.

The crow cawed and hopped down, landing on Yoosung’s knee. It looked up, watching Yoosung whilst he felt the ring. 

Yoosung looked back at it. “You want me to do something with this, don’t you?” The situation was silly in most perspectives, but Yoosung knew by now that this was a serious moment. “And- you helped me back there. You saved my life, didn’t you?”

The crow cawed back, tilting back to preen its feathers. 

“Thank you,” he had first said back, figuring that the crow had done him a favor AND brought him a ring. Yoosung fumbled with the ring and then stuffed it into his pocket. Choi- Choi- was that a name? It certainly wasn’t any sort of word he’s heard before, so it must’ve been a name. He looks at the crow, still feeling strange as he asked, “Are you- Saeran Choi?”

Suddenly, the bird stopped moving. It was still for a second, then shot a firm stare at Yoosung, and it cawed again. Yoosung would take this as a yes. 

Apparently, the crow thought its job was done, since it hopped off of Yoosung’s knee and flew up to the window, giving a few observant glances before taking off. Yoosung didn’t know what the crow wanted from him- no- what Saeran wanted from him, but this was a start. 

_Saeran Choi- Saeran Choi- Thank you for saving me._


	8. Ascend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung finally confronts Saeyoung after everything he has learned. Saeran resolves his troubled state. (Warning: Graphic descriptions of attempted suicide in this chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to everyone who stuck through me with this. It was a long, many month journey that I am pleased with. Much love to you all~

**Saeran Choi** , _22, succumbed to suicide by hanging on Saturday, August 1st, 2015. He was born on June 11th, 1995. He is survived by his mother, ---, and his brother, Saeyoung Choi._

_Saeran Choi graduated from--_

If previous coincidences and circumstances hadn’t convinced him, this surely did. Everything that the ouija board had said was true, his name, how he died, his brother…

And the ring with its inscripted name.

Saeyoung Choi. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take much time for Yoosung to figure out where Saeyoung worked. He worked for a packaging company, mostly with customers apparently, and with that information- Yoosung was off. 

He ended up shuffling outside of the post office, debating rather or not to actually go in. It was clear that he hadn’t made a good impression on Saeyoung before, and if Yoosung knew anything about loss- he knew that Saeyoung would not be happy at the mention of his brother. How was he even supposed to approach him anyway? 

Hey, you know how your brother killed himself? Well now he’s my guardian angel and he told me to find you. Plus, I got this ring that has your last name on it- I thought I’d bring it back to you. 

Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work out well. 

Then again- with Yoosung just standing outside of the building- he didn’t look too good in that position either. 

Yoosung took a deep breath and entered. It was a rather big building, a few people milling around in the lobby, some standing in line to try shipping something, and a few workers running around with lifts of packages. Yoosung got in line, figuring that would be his best bet in finding Saeyoung. 

He watched as he waited, seeing people trying to unlock mailboxes, a man struggling with a huge package, some woman tried picking up a box and the bottom fell out. He tried not to laugh too much.

“Sir, can I help you?”

Yoosung jumped a little and hopped up to the counter. “Hi- uhm- I’m sorry to bother you but, do you have someone by the name of Saeyoung Choi working here?”

The receptionist suddenly was a lot less happy. “Sir- we can’t just go off searching for employees…” Yoosung grew more and more uninterested as she droned on about security procedures- and the glance of a tuft of red hair caught his attention. 

“Saeyoung?!” The man, who had been lifting packages to what could only be the backroom, slightly perked up and glanced back at Yoosung. “Saeyoung- hey- I need to talk to you!”

The moment Yoosung was racing towards him, Saeyoung seemed to shut himself away, crossing his arms and glowering. “You’re that kid from the bookstore aren’t you…” It isn’t a question, so Yoosung doesn’t answer. “You going to talk about angels like a lunatic again?”

Yoosung sighed and shook his head, standing dumbly for a moment and staring at Saeyoung. Damn- he really should have thought about what he was going to say beforehand. At least he figured out not to just outright say it…

“I’m sorry I’m going to sound dumb,” he starts off, “And you’re not going to believe much of what I have to say, but I have to say it otherwise I won’t feel right. Have- okay- have you ever seen a message, or like a sign from a higher being?”

Saeyoung’s expression hardens, clearly getting tired with beating around the bush. “No. I don’t believe in higher powers, not anymore.” The expression he gives after his confession gives off the feeling that he didn’t mean to say it. He grimaces and sighs. “What are you trying to say?”

Yoosung chews on his lip. So the guy wasn’t religious- or he isn’t anymore. He wouldn’t blame the guy- losing your family like that can really hurt you. Yoosung could understand that. “Humor me- I received a sign. From a higher power, I guess. It told me to find you…” Yoosung digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out the ring. He hesitates in handing it to Saeyoung. 

As well he should have. Saeyoung looks at it for a moment, and suddenly his expression morphs into unadulterated rage. “You bastard! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!” 

The red-head grabs him by the collar, and Yoosung almost screams in fright. If they weren’t in a public place, he just knew that the other would hit him. “I- I- I found it! I found it on the street and looked up the name in it! I swear!”

“You’re a bad fucking liar, you know that?” Saeyoung growls back, shaking Yoosung with the grip he has on the other’s shirt. Security starts rushing towards them, alerted by the yelling. “I lost this fucking ring two years ago and suddenly you have it- you stole it didn’t you?”

Yoosung shakes his head viciously. “No, no, god no I swear! I found it! And- it was a sign that we had to meet. This ring…” His sentence slips away as he’s thrown to the floor and a few security guards surround Saeyoung. Yoosung watches meekly as Saeyoung is dragged away by the guards, still raving and struggling in their grip. 

-

It took about an hour for Saeyoung to emerge once more. By this time, Yoosung had already left, and he had found himself holed up across the street, hiding behind a bush and waiting to see what would happen. 

Saeyoung paced for a while, fingers threading in his hair and pulling and yelling to himself. After a few paces, he stomped over to a car and hopped inside, leaving with the screech of tires on pavement.

Yoosung released the breath he had been holding and stood up from his hiding place. Was this what Saeran wanted? Did he want Saeyoung to actually hate him? 

And what was he supposed to do with this ring?

-

Yoosung couldn’t explain how it happened. He didn’t have class the next day, so he was sleeping in- until he shot out of bed from a strange nightmare that he could barely remember. He had the instinctual feeling that he had to go, now. So he had pulled on a jacket and ran out the front door. 

It was morning bright and crisp with chilled air. For a while, Yoosung walked aimlessly, but it had stopped once a familiar bird landed in his path. 

He followed it until it led him to a house, and then it flew away. In the driveway was a familiar car, the one Saeyoung had hopped into the day before. It didn’t take much to deduct that this was his house. 

And the door was slightly ajar.

It wasn’t in his nature to just walk into someone’s house, but Yoosung couldn’t stop himself since the feeling of unrelenting dread had filled him with concern. The entire house was dark despite the morning light, curtains drawn and lights off, and it was a mess with cans and litter strewn about. 

Yoosung stepped carefully, peering around every corner and crevice to see if he could find the house’s owner. It all led him to the kitchen, the only clean room in the entire house. It looked almost pristine, tile floors freshly mopped and countertops wiped. The only way he could actually see all of this strangeness was because of the light over the oven, casting a dim light throughout the kitchen. 

“It’s the blondie…”

Yoosung yelped and turned. How he hadn’t noticed the figure sitting at the table in the corner, he was not sure, but it was certainly there. The light barely helped him to see the red hair and strangely colored glasses. 

“Saeyoung…! It’s you…”

Saeyoung gives a short, unenthusiastic laugh. “Who else were you expecting?” He was holding a wine glass with a clear liquid and slumped in a chair, but his expression was strangely romantic. With a contented exhale, he took another sip of his drink and sat the glass down. Yoosung could see just the slightest grimace on his cheeks. “It’s nice to see you again, cutie~”

Yoosung knew he was playing him, he just didn’t know why. “You’re so… different from the last time I saw you…”

Saeyoung gives a shrug. “Yah- I’ve done some thinking, and I’ve decided I’m not angry with you anymore.” He takes another sip, a deeper one than before, and the grimace is even more visible now. He slumps a bit more, his free hand threading into the fabric of the tank top he wore. Although calm in demeanor, his body seems to be tensed. “Instead, I just poured myself something to drink and sat here for a while, thinking about the past and… and what I could’ve done differently…”

There’s something dangerous in the air. At first, Yoosung thought it was directed towards him, like he should be afraid of something to come. Now, though, he knew it was different. “Saeyoung… what are you drinking?”

The red-head looks a little surprised, glancing down at his wine glass with a raised brow. He smiles a little, tilting the glass towards Yoosung. “Just some white wine to calm the nerves. I figured that it would end up solving everything for me…”

“Solving everything…” Yoosung takes a tentative step closer, still surveying the situation. That’s when he sees a white jug sitting on the floor beside Saeyoung’s chair. “Saeyoung- what is that bottle? What’s in it? Saeyoung…”

“Would you like a glass, blondie? Ahh- actually- what is your name anyway?” His voice sounds suddenly very hoarse, and he starts to cough heavily. He slumps over fully, gripping his stomach and coughing even more as his glass of ‘wine’ falls to the floor and shatters. 

Yoosung rushes forward, reaching out to help Saeyoung with whatever was hurting him. Of course- that bottle might have been to blame. He picks it up, surprised at how… empty it was, and horrified to see that it wasn’t wine. 

He instantly pulls out his phone and calls 911. “Please help- my friend just drank bleach, I don’t know what to do…”

Saeyoung starts vomiting with tears trailing down his cheeks as Yoosung finishes the call. He departs, quickly coming back with a glass of water, firmly holding Saeyoung and holding out the glass. 

“You have to drink this. Paramedics are on the way…” 

The glass is knocked from Yoosung’s hand, shattering on the tile floor. 

“No! I won’t drink it! Why- Why the fuck did you do that?!” Saeyoung hisses with blood stained teeth and pink eyes. 

“What? Call the police?” Yoosung grips Saeyoung hard, staring at him strangely. “You fucking drank a gallon of bleach, what do you think I’m supposed to do?”

Saeyoung weeps back, more bile coming up and his burning throat. “Let. Me. Die.”

“No!” Yoosung holds him tighter despite the continuous gagging and sputtering blood. “That’s not what your brother would have wanted.” 

“How do you know what my brother would have wanted?! You don’t even know him!” Saeyoung spat back.

“I don’t have to know him to know that he wouldn’t want you to follow in his footsteps!” Yoosung takes a shuddering breath, tears gathering in his eyes. “I lost a loved one too. I felt guilty too. I understand what you’re feeling and I thought- I thought killing myself was the best idea too… but it’s not! I know now that Rika wouldn’t have wanted that for me…”

Saeyoung looks up suddenly, his breathing slowly becoming calm. 

“So please, please just drink some water. Please try to live. If not for yourself- do it for your brother…” Yoosung pleaded, now full on crying, tears cascading down his cheeks. 

Saeyoung took deeper breaths despite the rise and fall of his chest being shallow. He glanced back at Yoosung, then at the wall, then at Yoosung again. “I… knew you looked familiar… can I have the water?”

-  
_  
“If he hadn’t had any water to help dilute the toxins- he most likely would have died.”_

Yoosung kept thinking about what the doctor had said, and although calmed with Saeyoung’s stable state, he was still nervous about seeing him again. He fiddled with his fingers and tapped his feet outside of the room he was asleep in. Was it even proper for him to visit? He didn’t know Saeyoung until today anyway…

They weren’t even friends.

“Blondie. You might as well come in and sit down- you’re just making the nurses anxious!” A voice called out. 

Yoosung obeyed and shuffled inside awkwardly. Saeyoung was alive, but he had been in better shape before. Yoosung sat in one of the guest chairs, giving small observations of the tubes connected to the man. 

“Uhm, how are you doing?” Yoosung probes softly. 

Saeyoung shrugs. “Had better days.” A strange silence hangs in the air, punctuated with sadness and the realization of what had actually happened. 

Yoosung sucks in a breath and reaches into his pocket to pull the ring out. He holds it out to Saeyoung. "I- never really got the chance to return this to you. It was Saeran's, right?"

The red-head tilts his head and nods, reaching out for it- but then he stops. Instead, he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls something out. A ring, identical to the other one, silver and with the inscription of 'Choi'. "We got matching rings when we were younger. When I saw- when he died, he didn't have it on anymore. He always wore it. And here you have it..." He sighs, slipping the ring back on his finger. "I think he wanted you to have it..."

Yoosung's brow furrows strangely. "You- do you think so?"

And the other laughs. "Yeah, he was strange with sentimental things at times..." It's silent for a moment, only the background noise of a tv even present. “You never answered my question.”

“Huh?”

The red-head smiles. “What’s your name? I think- after everything- that I should know the name of my hero. So spare me the aching curiosity?”

Yoosung gives a laugh. “I’m Yoosung.”

Saeyoung smiles, the expression weak but very powerful in emotion. “Thank you, Yoosung. Thanks for saving me from myself…”

.  
.  
.

Epilogue 

_It was strange for someone to be so knowledgeable about this sort of thing. Somehow- she was able to know the answer to every question he had. Not that he was jealous or anything, of course not._

_“He was so close to death, of course he could see you, just like I was seen…”_

_“Then how did he see you before all of that?”_

_She tapped her chin with a hum. “I’d think it was his faith that allowed him that. He’d only seen brief glimpses of my form, though.”_

_Saeran nods and looks back at the bed. It had been the closest call he’d ever seen, of course it was his brother that did such a thing. Yoosung reaches out, holding Saeyoung’s hand a little tighter._

_Saeran smiles a little, quelling his tears to a stop. “Thank- thank you for saving him…” He mutters in a murmur._

_Rika smiles, placing a hand on Saeran’s shoulder as she looks back at Yoosung. “I should be saying the same to you.”_

_She stands then, stretching out her wings and extending a hand to Saeran. “Are you ready to go then?”_

_Saeran pauses, looking at his brother. He looks… at peace._

_“Yeah, I’m ready.” He takes her hand, and the two take off with a cascade of feathers._


End file.
